Accidentally in lust
by Marius the Roman
Summary: Gary was depressed and Raoul wanted to help. But the helping got out of hand. They fall in love, and have some fun... Gets better in chapter 3 with drunk Jon. Warning! Male/Male, some angst, and a few drunken threesomes. Yay for alcomohol!
1. Prolouge: Gary, don't cry

**Disclaimer - I do not own The Song of the Lioness Quartet or any of the characters. If I did it would not be a young-teen book. And Jon would have a kinky, kinky mind...**

**RPOV**

I'd really just wanted to help him, really that's all it was at first.

I'd felt awful when he'd stared out the window in my room, I'd resolved to help him any way possible. The empty expression on his face, the pain and guilt in his eyes, it was too much.

I'd put my arm around his shoulder and attempted to comfort him. "Gary, tell me what's wrong." He shook his head. "Please, tell me, I want to help." At this he'd looked up at me with tears in his eyes – actual tears.

"Do you mean that?"

"Of course." I'd replied instantly. "You're my friend Gary; I can't help but want to help you."

The expression on his face was enough to break your heart.

"Friends." He murmured. I hadn't understood – and he just repeated himself. "Friends." He looked up at me (he'd looked down when he was speaking), crying openly.

I pulled him closer. "Gary, don't cry. Mithros, Gary. Please don't cry." He just sobbed more, tears rolling down his face like rain. "Please Gary, what's wrong with being friends?"

"That's just it, Raoul!" He was bawling against my chest. "That's the problem."

I wrapped both of my arms around him and put my head near his. "I don't understand, please Gary, I hate not understanding and I hate it when you cry. Help me understand." Gary pulled out of my arms and stared into my eyes.

"Raoul." He whispered.

"I-" I stared at him.

"Am-" He was shaking, pale, sweating.

"….Gay."

**GPOV**

The second I said the words I felt a wave of relief. I'd gotten it out. However Raoul reacted, I'd done my part and now I just had to let it play out.

Raoul stared at me with his amazing dark eyes and his voice came out in a whisper.

**RPOV**

I didn't know how to react at first. Gary - gay? It just didn't work. How could Gary – smart, strong, chivalrous, _masculine_ Gary – be gay?

But I'd already resolved to help him however I could, I couldn't change my mind now. So I said it, said those two little words. That little lie, that's what it'd been. A little, two-word lie.

"Me too."

Gary had frozen at that – frozen solid. "Wha – what?"

I really didn't want to say it again. But I did. And Gary flew into action. Sweet, passionate, action.

I pressed one hand against his face, against that muscular, rugged face. His lips pressed against mine, his tongue glided around the cavern of my mouth, leaving a tingling feeling behind it. His chest pressed against mine and I could feel every tiny bulge of muscle in his body. His eyes had been so alive, so very alive and happy, that I would have continued forever just to keep that look in his eyes. Just like I would have continued forever just for the taste of his lips or the feel of his hard, muscular body (well, hard other things as well.

But I mean it, I'd started out just wanting to help my friend.

**--**

**Please Reveiw. It won't kill you. But it _might_ kill you if you don't review. Weigh the odds. And be patient. Smut is coming.**

**El Jugador**


	2. I'm tired

**Disclaimer - I, unfortunately, do not own The Song of The Lioness quartet. God knows that if I did... Well your parents wouldn't have brought it for you, I promise you that. So; Lioness Quartet, not mine, gay Gary, oh so very mine.**

**RPOV**

Gary and my relationship grew enormously from that night – as we explored new ground together and grew to know each others personality deeper than we ever had.

Gary – normally so brave and ready – was a withdrawn and bashful lover.

Take, for example, the time we'd been apart for a week, a little more than a month into our affair.

I rushed down the hall to Gary's room with a slightly-too-early erection. I nearly bashed the door down knocking on it. Gary stuck his head out, looking tired and annoyed. "Yes, Raoul?" He asked with an irritable tone. "Can I come in, Gary?" He looked apprehensive. I leant in closer and whispered, "Or would you rather I take you in the hall?" He let out a sound halfway between and excited whimper and an annoyed groan – then let me in.

I frowned to see that he was putting a robe over his naked body – like he didn't know it would soon be ripped off.

"Did you miss me?" I asked. Gary nodded twice.

"Yes, I missed you a lot."

"And do you want to make up for lost time?"

He shot me a half-hearted glare. "I'm tired."

I gently gripped his face in my hand. "Gary, love. I'm starting to think you don't love me."

He threw his hands in the air. "Is it a crime to be tired?"

I took him in my arms when he was off guard and stared into those beautiful eyes. "Gary, darling Gary…… I even got you a gift and you're _too tired_ to speak with me."

"Gift?" he repeated hopefully. I produced a bunch of roses.

"For you. Along with this." I pulled a golden necklace with 'Gary' on it. He blushed and put it around his neck.

"Thank you." He whispered. I kissed his cheek, near his ear.  
"Don't mention it." As he stood, still stunned, I undid the tie of his robe and pulled it away from his body. If I was hard before there's no word for what I felt then. "Gary." I moaned. He kissed me once, with tongue, before dropping to his knees. He rubbed my buttocks for a few seconds before moving his hands to the pulsing centre of my desire. Gently, shyly even, he put his lips on my cock. I moaned and shut my eyes – loosing myself in pleasure.

**GPOV**

"Gary!"

Was that really Raoul screaming my name? I could scarcely believe it, I was so _happy_ to know that I and I alone was the one making him scream like that.

Just after that delightful scream finished, Raoul came into my mouth - hot and sugary. I swallowed slowly, exaggerating the movement so he knew.

"Ngh. Gary." He moaned as I kissed the last of his cum off his member.

I moaned softly as well, his cock was still hard and I knew (after so long I _always_ knew) I would be sore tomorrow.

"Raoul..." "G'ry?" "Ride me hard." I whispered as I moved to my hands and knees. I shut my eyes - to better feel him inside me. Just before he penetrated me I murrmered for him to stop.

Raoul was not happy about this. "Gary! Why...?" I smiled and crawled away from him.

"I'm tired."

**--**

**Review Please! It won't kill you!**

**Also tell me if you'd like to see a new story I'm working on with a rather creepy, disturbing sex scene involving a very kinky Jon, an undercover George and a rather vain Alanna - in the alternate future where Alanna stays single...**

**So Review Please!**


	3. Drunk don't lie

**Disclaimer - Me no own Song of the lioness, me poor...  
I wrote this chapter on Tuesday morning, one AM to twenty past. It's a short (but funny) lead up to the next chapter.**

**RPOV**

Jon knows.

I think…… If he remembers that night – and I heard somewhere that the drunk don't lie.

"You're gay." Jon said bluntly, face blank.

I winced and faked a look of confusion. "Wha-?" I shook my head like a dog coming out of water. "Have you been drinking?" I was surprised when that made him pause.

"Err…. A leeeettle… But hey! Nerrr sidetracking." He put an arm around my shoulder and led me outside. I guessed he'd been drinking more than he let on. As we walked somewhat awkwardly through the gardens (Jon's arm still firmly around my shoulder, Jon started talking again. "Rail… There bes a time in every bugs life when… um…" He stared at me in confusion. Then he remembered. "Right! Raoul, we've been friends for years. _Years_. And I know you've always felt a little different… And the other day… the other day… the other _night_ I heard you and Gary in Gary's room, and brotha… you were looo-ud… And… And… So just admit it, _Brotha._ You. Are. Gay."

I looked firmly into his eyes, gripping his shoulders. "You. Are. Drunk."

Jon raised a finger. "Aah! So you donut deny it! My lodical reddenings are undeerflyable!"

I felt some bad temper come over me. "Talk to me again when you're no longer drunk." I growled irritably and tried to walk off.

Jon wasn't about to let the subject drop that easily; he grabbed my shoulder. "I ass sure you, rail, I am sold cober!" With those words on his lips he fainted.

**Firstly, I know, it's incredibly ungrammatically correct and badly spelled.  
Please, R&R. Tell me if you Like/Dislike/It Could be better.  
I'm not against coming back and editing if it makes you sleep better at night knowing that there is one less typo floating around the world of  
**


	4. One Midwinter

**Disclaimer - I do not own any characters that are owned by anyone else because someone else owns them. So I do not own the characters in this story because Tam Pierce owns them and I am not Tam Pierce.  
This chapter has Jon in it again, not _as_ drunk as last time but still funny.**

**GPOV**

I was sitting in the gardens, just thinking, when Jon came up to me.

"Gary. We need to talk." He said firmly.

I stared at him, curious over his tone. "Oh?"

He sat down. "Um… I don't know if Raoul's talked to you about last night."

"No, we haven't spoken since lunch yesterday." Not _entirely_ true. We hadn't really 'spoken' as such…

"Well, um, the thing is… I was actually wasted last night so I don't remember much but I confronted him about something that could have used more delicate handling. Um, but anyway…" He fiddled with his shirt sleeve.

"Just cut to the chase Jon, you're killing yourself." I reprimanded.

"Well, the thing is, a couple of nights ago I heard you and him… in your room…… fucking."

I stared at Jon with one eyebrow raised, "Indeed?" We held our stare for a few more seconds before simultaneously bursting into fits of laughter. As we struggled to regain breath I managed to speak. "You've known for a while." I accused.

He nodded. "Don't you remember last midwinter? After the party at the dancing dove?"

I stared at him curiously. "Jon, you should know, I had a hangover for two days after that party – I don't remember anything." I said with a chuckle.

Jon laughed as well. "Fine, I'll remind you."

_**The Previous year…**_

_**3POV**_

_The night of the part at the Dancing Dove, Gary and Jon walked down together – already tipsy and singing songs they'd been told to forget. As they staggered into the inn they were met with cheers and quickly fell playing a drinking game._

_After that they took turns toasting every person, dog or horse in the castle._

"_To Rex the hunting dog," Gary proposed._

"_Here-here." George and Jon chorused. Alanna was watching with amused eyes – she didn't drink in public but she could find no reason not to enjoy the spectacle. As all his friends agreed, a drunk Jon was a funny Jon._

"_To… Alyss the maid. You know – the blonde who slapped His Grace."_

"_That was Kellie – you idiot! Alyss is the one who walked in on father changing." Gary yelled – by know he was drunker than 'Fingers (who was dancing on the bar)._

"_Cheers to them both!" George yelled and his proposal was gratified with a loud 'here-here' from the others._

_Later that night Jon and Gary staggered back to their rooms._

"_Gary… did I telth you you're my be-etht friend?" Jon drawled._

_Gary laughed. "I love ya, mate. Ha! Mate. Mayte." He laughed again, drunkenly and half collapsed on Jon. "I luv ya! I luv ya, ya hear! I'm a homosexual and I'm in love with my prince!" With that he gave Jon a drunken kiss and promptly fainted on the stone paving._

_A suddenly sober Jon walked quietly to his room, contemplating Gary's words._

**GPOV**

"I never!" I exclaimed, more bewildered than non-believing. "I kissed you?"

Jon nodded happily. "Ye-up. You kissed me full on the mouth and I should remember."

"I never." I repeated softly, then looked up.

"So what now?"

"Now we talk to Raoul." He said.

**Did you like it? Then review. Did you hate it? Well, you can review if you have any constructive critiscism, otherwise don't bother. I'm writing the next chapter my fatest but I probably won't get it on for a fair while.**


	5. Perfectly wrong

**I do not own any books that anyone else worte or owns, because they own them.  
Thanks for reveiwing and please keep telling me what you want to see, 'cause I'll probably write it.**

--

Gary walked into my room not long after dinner. He'd stared at me for the entire duration of the meal. His huge eyes were locked on mine for every single second. As he came in he ripped off his shirt, scarcely bothering to kick the door shut behind himself. I was waiting on the bed dressed in only a bathrobe. I smiled at him, making sure to match the look he was giving me. That look that made me so, so hard. Our eyes were locked for what seemeed like an eternity - an eternity that wasn't quite long enough. Then I pulled him onto my body. Our lips smashed together, desperate and sensual. His huge, warm hand wandered up my thigh, teasing me deliciously. My hands were all but glued to his cock, oh I loved the look on his face and as I touched him. Gary ripped off my bathrobe with his teeth and one hand, Gods! he was an _animal._ We fell on the floor, tangled together, and I found myself looking up at Gary from the floor. I pushed my hips against his, feeling his hard, hot member. Oh of course it hurt. Mithros! Did it hurt. But it was a perfect pain. Painful, delicious and perfectly wrong.

"Gary." My voice sounded so... hot.  
"Yes?" His voice was casual, however he managed that.  
"Make me beg."

"G'ry!"  
"Uh!" Gary collapsed and we fell together on the bed. "Oh, Mithros." He murrmered.  
The door opened and two of our _best_ friends walked in.  
"Oh." I said, rather put out. "Hi Jon! Hi Alanna." I glared at them.  
"Told you that you were gay." Jon teased.  
I sighed and stared at the ceiling. Alanna and Jon almost collapsed laughing. Well, I expected that. But when my darling lover stared laughing I felt rather injured. Maybe even crushed. _Oh well,_ I though as I joined in_, sometimes one msut laugh to keep from weeping.  
_

**I'm going to continue from this point in the next chapter, considering a little Jon/Gary (I know they're cousins) and/or Raoul/George... Hm? Tell me what you think.**


	6. Drinking Contest

Disclaimer- Idonotownanythinganyoneelseownsandthereforedonotownanyofthecharactersinthisstory

**Disclaimer-** **Idonotownanythinganyoneelseownsandthereforedonotownanyofthecharactersinthisstory. In-out-in-out…….. This is another chapter with a drunk Jon, kind of pointless by funny and lemony. Read on and review!**

Raoul

Jon sat down opposite the table from me. Gary and Alanna both stood there just snickering, though Alanna tried to look disapproving. "On your marks." Gary teased, and I had to stare at his lips as they brushed together, seaming to taunt me. "Get set." I glared at Jon over our cups. "Drink!"

I tipped the mugs contents into my mouth so fast that I didn't even taste it. Two…… three…… four……five…… Oh! Tasted like rum… six…… seven……eight…….No, no, that was apple cider…… nine…… ten…….eleven……. my stomach lurched.…… I winced and put the cup down for a second to stare at Jon. He was somewhere near his eighth and already starting to sway. I decided to take another few gulps, to keep my lead……. Twelve……thirteen……

"Four feet!" Jon's voice was slurred. "Four feet! Four feet!"

Alanna laughed wildly and gasped. "I think he's forfeiting."

I stared at Jon, swaying in his seat and smiling happily. "Four feet!" He yelled again, seeming to think it was a prize. I stood up and swayed. Jon laughed raucously. "Rail, sweetening. Sweeter, sweeter, sweeter." He clapped his hands happily.

"What do you think he means?" Gary asked, wiping tears out of his eyes.

"Who cares?" Alanna asked, still laughing.

"Georgie!!" Jon squealed. "Georgie!! Georgie!! _Georgie!!_"

I turned around and nearly hit the ground. George was standing there with a grin. "Hello Jon. How are you tonight?"

"Rail sweetening! And Jon Four Feet!" To everyone's evident delight Jon waved his arms and legs in the air, falling out of the seat.

I don't know how much time had passed before Gary and I were shagging in the bed. I kept feeling a third pair of hands run over my body, sending pleasant rushes of heat through my torso. I could still hear Jon squealing happily. "Shinnny, shinnny, look Ananna. Ook! Shinny, Okk Abanna, a shinny. Shinnie, Banana, shinnie, shinnie, shinnie, shinnie…" And Gary's breath in my ear, his unintelligible grunts so arousing. "Ral, har, he, he, hh, hh, hh…. Nng. Ral." And softer whispers in my ear, so, so _good_. "When you're done here I want you to give me oral. I want you to suck and blow and lick me for hours. I want you to slap my butt…" I squirmed as a hand touched my upper thigh, gently, so gently, too gently…

I found my self slamming against a hot body, muscled and hard. _God, I could taste the sweat coming off him._ I saw a small scar along one shoulder, I kissed it. "Mmmm." I slammed against him again. "Mmmmmmnnnmmnngggg." My hand wander down over a fast rising and falling chest. Down to that hot, pulsing… "Gary!" A new kind of squeal. "Oh." A low grunt. "Uh! Ah! Ah!"…… and Alanna's voice. "Well, well, well. This was unexpected." Another laugh… another grunt… more gasping. My brain was starting to clear and I knew that the body I had pressed against the wall was George. My leg curled around his waist.

I faded in and out of consciousness as Jon and I rolled on the floor with drunken mirth. "Red Banana, and Sweetening Rail and Jon Four Feet and _Georgie!!_" Jon clapped his hands together as he sculled another mug of some potent alcohol. "Alcomohol!" I said, laughing. Jon giggled hysterically. "Sweetening Rail make me laf. Laf, laf, laf, laf…." He giggled again and the warm dark of drunk semi-consciousness enveloped me.

**I hope you liked drunk Jon and what little Smut there was. Please review and tell me what you liked/didn't like/want to see. Please! This is how I write these things. Please and thank you, El Jugador.**


	7. Swords and words fly

**Disclaimer- I do not own any of the Characters in the story. Though I do contest partial ownership of Gay Gary and Gay Raoul and Bi George and Drunk Jon, so really the only character that isn't at least partially mine is Alanna - because I don't know what to do with her, suggestions would be appreciated and proably used. Thanx  
El Jugador - read on...**

_The sun was hot over the sparring ring outside of the palace. Tortall's champion smiled evilly as she put the sword up to the neck of the Commander of the Kings Own. The giant lowered his sword and frowned in the least sportsman like way. "You win, Alanna. Again." He turned to face the stunningly charming and mouth wateringly handsome Prime Minister. He glared and picked his sword back up. In a serious of quick feints he put his sword up the muscled neck of the Prime Minister, failing to hide the spark of desire he felt whenever he looked at that sexy, sexy body - who could blame him? "Put down the pen, My lord, you are defeated."_

**GPOV**

I got up with a grin, "Give me a weapon and, Oh majestic lord," I added as a touch, lacing my voice with sarcasm. "I shall make you, may my lord live forever, suck eggs."

Raoul smiled at me. "Okay, we fight, looser drinks raw eggs."

I smiled. "Of course, oh mighty, Pig-Kisser. I shall not stop you from drinking the eggs of the birdies."

Alanna laughed. "'_Birdies_' just ruins that sentence."

Even Raoul was failing to hide his grin as he spoke, "You do realize you just called yourself a pig, don't you?" I smiled at him knowingly and took the sword Alanna offered me. "Prepare yourself, darlen, I shant go easy just because I'm fucking you." I teased.  
"I do supose if you went easy you'd just not pick up the sword. I cannot think of another way to make you a worse fighter."  
"At least _I _could be made worse by not picking up the sword. For you it would be a vast improvement."

Raoul's sword swiped past my sword arm. "Come sir, your possado. Or have you caught a case of the chicken-wing? Feel fry to fly, my Hen."  
I swept my sword in a butterfly-arc around his head. "Not the chicken, but the butterfly." I corrected.  
His sword began a series of sweeps, all of which I defended. "But, my love, you feint..." I stopped his words with a quick jab, missing by a hair. We parried, and swept, and jabbed and finally broke away, hot as hell.

"Well," I panted. "Now that we've finished warming up..." Pant-pant-pant "Let the real..." Pant-pant-pant "Fight..." Pant-pant "Begin..." Pant-pant...

**Continued in the next chapter, if you like. Tell me please. Review, it's how i know what you like and don't like and what you want to read. Thanking you in advance, now you have to do it, haw-haw, Thanxagain, El Jugador.**


	8. Swearing, swords and shirtless men

**AN: continuation of last chappie. Less slash, less trying-to-be-funny humor. Have faith, read on, please review.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Alanna. I reserve rights to Drunk Jon, Gay Gary, Gay Raoul and Bi George. (Well not _entirely_ to Gay Raoul and Gary)**

3POV

Raouls quick blade came down over Gary's head, just giving him enough time to pivot out of the way. The cut was so close that a lock of Gary's hair floated to the ground. "You'll have to do better than that." Gary teased. In a teasinly venemous voice he added, "My sweet." Raoul let out a heavy breath, his chest muscles ripling as he did so. Gary stared longingly at the third of chest revealed by Raoul's loose shirt. Taking advantage of the situation, Raoul lunged again. Gary countered with a butterfly up and down, missing Raoul's arm by a hair.

Raoul's eyes wandered over as Gary's perfectly poised body in that split second as the sword came down when time seemed to freeze to a halt. Then he drew back his sword and arm as the sliver blade came crashing down. He slipped the blade in an arc, counting on Gary's momentum to cary him down. As he expected, Gary failed to catch himself in time and the weigth of his sword and the speed of his cut took him to the ground. What he wasn't expecting was the strange weakness that washed over him as he looked at Gary's heaving body, his hard butt heaving with his breath. He lost the fatal moment and Gary rolled away.

Sweat soaked and panting, covered in dirt, Gary jumped to his feet, expecting an oncoming attack. For some reason Raoul was in a strange daze. Gary took advantage of the moment to rip his shirt over his head. Too slow, a blade sliced the cloth, just missing his skin. Gary slipped neatly to a crouch and took an upwards swipe at Raoul's blade. It flew from his hands and hit the dust. Grinning cheekily, Gary straightened up. "Sexy, charming, literate _and _a master fencer." He sighed dramatically. "Is there anything I can't do?" Seeing Raou's glum expression he stood on tip-toes to raise his lips to Raoul's ear and whispered, "Don't worry, Raoul my love. I'll make it up to you tonight." Leaning in even closer and whispering in his huskiest voice, he added, "I'll let you beat me as many times as you like." Raoul's eyes twinkled. "That's good," He turned Gary's head so he could whisper in turn. "Because you've been a very bad boy."

...

**Sorry, I know it's too short. Can't help it because I have like NO internet acsess.  
Sorry, pleaze review. El Jugador.**


	9. All good things

**Discaimer- I do not own... Gary's dad, I guess... that's about it.  
I wrote this partially in response to some people saying my stories kinda lacked meaning... so those people, review if you like it.**

I was smiling uncontrollably as I snuck into Gary's bedroom. I'd forgotten how much I really like Fief Naxen.

"How's it going, sweetheart?" I asked cheerily. As soon as the words had left my mouth I saw how stupid they were.

Gary was sitting on the edge of the bed, with his head in his hands, crying his eyes out.

I rushed to sit beside him, holding him to my chest. "Darling, what's wrong?"

He just shook his head, curling his wiry arms around my waist.

"Gary, dear, tell me what's wrong. Please Love, I can help."

He hiccupped and cried even harder, shifting into my lap. "It's over Raoul. It's all over."

I couldn't make sense of that. "What's over? Please, tell me."

"Everything." He whispered into my shoulder. "Everything. The entire meaning of my life."

"What!? Gary!" That was just slightly offensive. "Gary, what about me. I give meaning to.... I......" His glassy stare sent shivers down my spine. His gorgeous face clearly told me what I was missing.

"No."

He nodded. "It's over."

I felt tears coming to my own eyes. "But-but-but why? But no! No it can't..... No." _Shut up! _I told myself. _Shut up now! He's the one crying. You have to be strong. For him. You have to be!_

"Gary, sweetheart," My voice was too strained to be soothing. "Gary, it'll be fine. We'll get through this. It'll be okay."

"How will it be okay, Raoul? I can't live without you! How is that okay?"

I pressed my face to his head. "Gary, you don't have to. Well figure this out." I kissed his hair, and his forehead. I kissed the little frown line between his eyes. I kissed his eyelids and his wet eyelashes. I kissed the little lines by his mouth. And I kissed those gorgeous lips. He kissed me back, and I tasted salty tears on his lips.

"Now, Gareth, take three deep breaths." He'd never admit it to anyone but me, but he preferred Gareth to Gary. I wouldn't even admit it to him, but so did I. Gareth suited him, and it sounded nice. Gary did as I said. "In... out... in... out... in...out... There, that's better. Now, tell me everything. What makes you say...... well, you know."

He shivered slightly and I pulled the blanket up around us, the wind came straight into this room.

"Well, I was.... I was downstairs with father...... you know, he was talking about how he's not well...... and the Fief will go to me properly soon. And... And he said how there hasn't been any.... any children in this house for a while... and how....." He burst into tears again.

I pulled off my soaked shirt and helped him out of his. His tears dried up pretty fast. "Okay, sweetheart. Tell me the rest. It'll help. You tell me the rest, and we can go to sleep and I'll think of a way to make it better." I soothed, the words calmed me as well as him. I knew, deep down, that there was nothing I wouldn't or couldn't do to stop him crying. I hated him crying more than anything, more than Alanna hated Roger, or Alex hated Alanna.

He nodded. "R-Raoul, he… he wants me to get married."

**A/N- _Dun-Dun-Dun!_  
How will Raoul react? Will Gary get married?And is this the end of our heros' stories?  
Only you can decide!... _Review! Review! Revieeeeewww!!!!!_**


	10. Life's little reflections

**Disclaimer – I do not own… oh I don't know. Gary's father I guess… And the two lines in italics are from Shakespeare's "Venus and Adonis" so, not min either.  
**

**A/N: Continued from last chappie where Duke. N. SR, suggested that **_**our**_** Gary find a wife.**

**To everyone who reviews and especially to The-Muse-In-Me a big, big, BIG, thankyou.**

**GPOV**

I pulled myself tighter around Raoul's chest. The feeling of premonition wouldn't shake. Each day I listened aptly to Jon's advice, who was eligible, who was not. Each evening I talked shyly with women, somehow managing to smile and laugh at the right moments. And each night I snuck into Raoul's room, wondering fearfully which night would be the last.

Raoul didn't share my pessimism. Each night as I came into his room fighting off tears, he whispered little criticisms and consolations. "Don't be such a drama, Queen." Or, "It looks fun. I'll be courting women too before you know it." But I could see the worry in his eyes.

The night I'd told him about father's suggestions, he hadn't even had that little glimmer of worry. He'd laughed openly from relief. He'd thought we'd been caught. He thought we'd be hung, or banished, or at least be publicly shamed and stripped of our titles. He'd been so relieved.

Then, that night, we'd made love. Hot and sticky, I cried in his arms, so sure it would be the last time. Of course, he proved me wrong, again and again. And yet each time the absolute passion behind little gasp, the love behind each tiny movement, the purity behind each explosion of pleasure, overwhelmed me. Each and every time I ended up crying openly against his suntanned chest.

I cried again tonight, harder than ever. Father had come to Court and he'd be watching me like a hawk until he saw me go into some woman's bedroom. I think he suspects me of having a secret lover, though I'm not sure if he's guessed that my lover is the Captain of the Kings Own. I mentioned this to Raoul and he turned white under the tanned and dirt-stained skin. White like a snowflake.

Lately I'd been having nightmares too. Nightmares where I _do_ go into the women's rooms. I go in and I can't make love. It's too close to the truth. So I try to find something arousing in the round curves of large breasts, or the softness of wide hips.

Impossible.

Absolutely impossible. Alanna suggests trying to find something that reminds me of Raoul in each girl. I usually can. Lady Irene of Port Legann had Raoul's pouting lips. Lady Rosalia of Tyra had the same dark curls. Lady Sahli of the Yamani Islands had his cheeks and even the same suntan.

But it didn't help. Each one repulsed me. What was there to love in those unmuscled buttocks? What could I find attractive in the large, round thighs? And I couldn't even think of making love. The thought of putting my member anywhere near that secret place women hid so well… It was enough to make you turn and run, screaming as you went.

Furthermore, I could see it taking it's toll on Raoul. He knew it was necessary, and a simple step to take to hide our secret. He even tried his best to look lightly on the situation. But slowly, more and more with each woman I spoke to, he began to worry. I could see it in his eyes. _When will he decide to give me up all together?_ It haunted him like a shadow. Even as I lay in his arms, belonging more to him than any person has ever belonged to another, I knew it was lingering in the back of his mind. _When will this secrecy be too much for him?_

And then, maybe it wasn't. Maybe the only reason I thought that was because those exact thoughts were in _my_ head. Making me fret over each second I spent away from him. Chilling me to the bone every second I spent with him. _What is he thinking?_

It was almost too much for me. Driving me closer and closer to the edge.

The edge of what?

It was too much to imagine. Too much for my brain.

The edge of what?

Suicide. Violence. Murder.

The edge of insanity.

…

But no.

…

That was negative thinking.

And it wasn't true. I wouldn't go insane.

Not while I had Raoul.

_But then what?_

I had no answer. There was nothing after Raoul.

_Nature made thee with herself at strife,_

_Saith that the world hath ending with thy life…_

Before Raoul was a time that I care not to think about. Nothing more than a chapter in someone else's story.

After Raoul was a place that could not be thought of. Worse than the eternal fires of the black god's realm.

Raoul was everything. Raoul was the air I breathed, everywhere and all important. Raoul was the water I drank, impossible to go without for long. Raoul was the heart pumping blood through my veins, the source of my life.

And nothing was too much for us. Nothing could drive us apart. Not the secret thoughts lurking in the back of my mind. Not father, watching me like a hawk. Not the strict laws of the social rule. Not the black god, lurking at every corner.

Together, we would survive off each others love.

That was all we needed.

**Awwwwwww, isn't that sweet? And kinda scary and depressing in the middle there..... Y'know the deal, R&R and I keep writing. Peas and fang you**


	11. There Ain't No Cure For Love

**Disclaimer – I don't own… um… Gary's father or Alanna, or Sober Jon. But I do own Gay Raoul and Gay Gary. I also don't own the words to the song in this. They belong to Leonard Cohen.**

**A/N: This is Raoul's version of the last chapter. Because Raoul also has thoughts.**

**RPOV**

Gary had finally fallen asleep. I'd all but killed myself trying to wear him out tonight. I was nearly as tired as he was, but I stayed up thinking.

Gary had been crying more tonight. He'd said his father would find out. He'd said he wouldn't rest until he saw Gary go into a woman's room at an unreasonable hour. I consider this an exaggeration. It is _very_ hard to go without sleep that long. I should know, I'm doing it.

It's so unfair.

It shouldn't be illegal for men to love each other like this. Once, I saw two youths being shamed for loving each other. One boy, one of George's boys apparently, had fought off the men holding him in place while he was whipped. But instead of running for it, he ran to his lover. He'd knelt there and held him, and tried to calm his tears, when he could have been saving his own skin.

_I loved you for a long, long time. I know this love is real._

_It don't matter how it all went wrong. That don't change the way I feel._

And he was being punished for loving him so much. One of the priests in charge of the 'shaming' has said that the public whipping was to 'cure' the boys of their unholy love.

_There ain't no cure, there ain't no cure, there ain't no cure for love._

The younger boy, the crying one, had died first. Only then did the older boy begin to cry. He cried, he wailed, he screamed. It was terrible. The man witch the whip even stopped whipping him. He didn't need to. The boy was crying himself to death. He didn't even need to be held down. He just knelt there, crying.

_And I can't believe that time is going to heal this wound that I'm speaking of,_

_There ain't no cure, there ain't no cure, there ain't no cure for love._

I was so afraid of that happening to me and Gary. I couldn't bear watching him die, watching him scream.

But Jon wouldn't allow that, I knew that. He'd banish us because he had to do something, but he wouldn't do that to us.

And what of my other fear. The second worst fear in my life. The one that would hurt me more than anything imaginable.

I was afraid to even think of it.

To even think of Gary leaving me.

It would hurt me more than him dying, but at least he might be happy. That was what I wanted most in the world. His happiness.

But I doubted that happening anyway. Never an day went past without Gary confessing his undying love to me.

I wish he could be consoled as easily as me. I spent so long convincing him I couldn't live without him.

_I've got you like a habit, and I'll never get enough,_

I spent every night convincing him of my pure animal need for him.

_I'm aching for you baby, I can't pretend I'm not._

_I need to see you naked, in your body and your thought._

Every word I spoke to him was saturated in my eternal love.

_I loved you for a long, long time. I know this love is real._

And when he cried, I consoled him with the same sentiment worded a thousand different ways.

_I don't need to be forgiven, for loving you so much,_

Every whisper said the same thing.

_It's written in the scriptures, it's written there in blood._

Every kiss was filled with the same passion.

_I even heard the angels, declare it from above._

He was my life. He was my soul. He was my universe. He was my god.

And we didn't need to be forgiven, because it's true…

_There ain't no cure, there ain't no cure, there ain't no cure for love._

_All the rocket ships are climbing through the sky, holy books are open wide,_

_The doctor's working day and night but they'll never, ever find that cure for love._

_Aint no dream, no drug. There's nothing pure enough to be a cure for love._

**A/N: I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed to the last chapter. You don't know how much each review brightens up my day.**

**And please review saying how you'd like Gary and Raoul to work this out, if they ever do, because my creative genius seems to have quit.**


	12. Cythera of Elden

**Disclaimer: I don't own Fief Naxen or Alanna or George or semi-sober Jon. I do own the gay parts of Gary and Raoul.**

**A/N: This isn't finished, I just lost my inspiration half way through and decided to put it up as is. Thanks to everyone who reviewed.**

"Sorry, Cythera. I think I'll have to stop, my head's spinning."

She smiled at me in an understanding way. "Why of course, My Lord. We've been dancing all night." More like twenty minutes, but I was getting tired of Raoul and Jon waving to me. I went over to them, trying to look appropriately put out.

Raoul grinned at me, though something dark lurked in his exquisite eyes. "Enjoying yourself, Love?"

I shrugged, making Raoul and Jon laugh raucously. "Come on! We can tell! No need to be ashamed."

Raoul glanced in Cythera's direction. "She's pretty."

Jon laughed again. "Don't let anyone hear you say _that_ Raoul. They'll know you're gay in an instant."

Raoul and I both stared at him. "Why?"

"Understatement of the century, that is. Pretty? She's stunning! She's the embodiment of beauty herself!" He made a suggestive gesture with his hands, the import of which was lost on me. "Not only that, but she's rich! And Mithros is she… hmm…_well endowed_, if you get my drift." He winked and gestured towards his chest. "Not that that's what you boys are looking for!" He laughed again. I guessed that he was starting to tend towards the tipsier side of things. "And of course the Elden line breed like rabbits. You'll have her knocked up in three goes, tops. Nine goes and you'll have a boy for sure. She's perfect!"

_Everyone _said she was perfect.

"I like her Gary. She's attractive. She's single. She's rich. I'd chose her, in your position."

"She's not too bad, Gary. Even I can tell she's pretty. And Jon says the Elden line are very fertile. She sounds good."

"Gary Love, she's perfect. Rich, pretty, fertile. What's not to love? Seriously, if you don't go for her, I will!"

Perfect?

Cythera?

She was pretty, true enough. She was fertile, definitely. But perfect?

Raoul telling me she was perfect was like Mithros telling a high priest that he really should be pagan.

As if.

…

But I suppose she wasn't _that_ bad.

So I tried.

I flirted, I teased, I danced, I talked.  
She definitely favoured me.

I was the only one she wanted to dance with. I was the only one she's accept gifts and flowers from. She had even hinted that she'd like to see the fief some time.

Of course, Raoul and Jon snapped up this information.

"Mithros Gary, you'd be a fool not to take her. Who knows? You might even get her knocked up. Ha!"

"Really… Gary… _oh!_... Take her… _Deeper_… She wants to… _Yes!_… go… _Oh Gods_… Just do it… _Mithros_…"

So, after much bullying from every side, I took her there.

"Cythera?"

"Yes, my lord?"

"Would you like to come to Fief Naxen, some time? Just the two of us?"

"I'm honoured that you ask, my lord. I would love to."

**A/N: I'm taking suggestions on where this should go. I have an idea, but I don't like it because it's too much work. I'll do everyone In response to reviews I'll try to put a drunkenness scene somewhere in the next few chapters, maybe at a certain celebration…**


	13. A little bit of Fetish

**Disclaimer; I hereby disclaim the characters in this story. Yawn.**

**A/N: I just thought I'd do this little bit of smut before I went to work on the tedious arrangements to come.**

**PS: Thanks to the Review Crew, and Teresa Delay for reminding me of Cythera.**

_I give Cythera one last quick kiss outside her room. "Good night, Cythera."_

_She rests a hand lightly on my chest. "Are you entirely sure you won't come in, Gary? Just for a moment?" _A moment, my ass…

_Thoughts off my ass quickly turn into thoughts of someone else's ass, instantly reminding me why I talking my way out of going into Cythera's room. "Sorry, Cythera. I must get some rest for the ride tomorrow… Gottagobye!" I turn and all but run down the hall._

_I make it to Raoul's room in record time, and I'm so unbelievably hard as I run into his room… and stop dead in my tracks.  
I couldn't say I've ever seen a sigh more exciting; Raoul, dressed only in a linen cloth, sandals… dears gods, is that a _whip?_  
I have to open and close my mouth for a few moments before I can say anything. And even then it does seem to be lacking a little intelligence, "Ra…oul… Wha?" Granted, it could have been a little classer – but I thought my response quite fitting given the current situation.  
Raoul smiles his sexiest grin. "It was Jon's suggestion, on behalf of Thayet. If she doesn't know what makes men's knees go weak, who does?"  
_Granted, but isn't the wig a little much? And the eye-makeup?_ My hard-on is clearly visible by now, judging by the way Raoul's eyes can't stay fixed on mine. "So, if you're that slave, driver, what am I?" I ask breathlessly.  
Raoul takes a careful step forward, flexing the hand holding the coil of whip. "You, Gareth," his voice saying my name does strange things to my entire body, "are my slave."  
I eye him warily. "Where's my costume?" He smiles deliciously, and points to the change area. I hurry to my designated position, desperate to get on whatever he wants, just so he can take it off. None the less, I have to gulp when I see what he has planned. I take off my clothes, fumbling with the laces of my tunic. I pull on the leather breeches with some difficulty, and slip the sleeveless black tunic over my head. The meaning of so many black straps on my leather sandals is a little obscure, but I lace them up the entire way. I splash some rosewater into my hair, and shake it dry. Finally, I rush out into the main room as fast as one can when one is struggling to move one's knees. I'm hard as rock when I see Raoul, apparently already in character._

_He flicks the whip expertly, smiling proudly when he hears it crack. "I practiced forever," he whispers cutely. I want to congratulate him, but I stay in character. He paces forward, holding the whip threateningly and gestures to the floor. "On your knees, slave."  
I glare at him as best I can, trying not to smile. "What if I don't want to?"  
His hand lashes against my cheek, just hard enough to make me flinch. "Then I'll make you!"  
I get slowly to my knees. He smiles, standing in front of me. "You, Gareth, are a whore." The back of his hand strikes across my cheek. "What are you?" I try to think of the saddest moment of my life, trying to bring tears to my own eyes. I realise what tomorrow is the beginning of, and the tears flow of their own accord. I manage to smile through the tears, to reassure Raoul that I'm only playing along. The hand strikes again. "What are you, Gareth?"  
I bow my head and mutter, "I'm a whore."  
"I can't hear you!"  
I look up, giving my best kicked-puppy imitation. "A whore, sir!"  
He kicks my stomach so softly that I'm in dangers of laughing, it tickles. "And what do whores do, Gareth?"  
"I don't know, sir."  
"You don't know what a whore does?" He growls.  
"No, sir." I'm tragic, and innocent, and heartbroken.  
He entwines his fingers in my hair, and pulls me to my feet. "Well, I'll show you what a whore does!" I'm dragged to the bed, and shoved face down onto the pillows. He's so gentle as he does this, what looks like a push is a caress, what could be mistaken for a hit is loving encouragement. The leather breeches are being pulled roughly down to my ankles, and damnit I'm already moaning. It seems like years since we last touched each other, and I want him so bad! Somehow he gets the breaches over my leather sandals, and proceeds to attack my tunic. This is his last act as slave driver, as he seems to loose all higher brain functions at the sight of me.  
"Gareth…" I look up in to his eyes inquiringly. "I love you more than the waking world, you know that, right?"  
I smile at him, finally able to believe it with every fibre of my cynical being. "As I love you. No matter what happens."_

_There are no more words, of that I make sure. His hand slides over my manhood, and… damnit! What happened to his hands, what happened to that touch? I want more! A small vial of oil is pressed into my hands, and his eyes are telling me what to do. I use it all, until my hands are slick and the smell of sandalwood teases me. I used to never be able to bear it, that awful scent that itched my nose. But everything about Raoul smells of sandalwood. His hands and dark with the oil, and certain nether regions are never long without it. Only his hair and his breath and his sweat don't smell of it. No, they smelled of Raoul, the scent that manages to drive me crazy with pleasure. Said hair was long enough now to fall in my face. I liked his hair long, curly and wild as it was. It made him look like a wild man, and that was how I liked Raoul.  
I twisted around, facing my gorgeous master. He helped me onto my back clumsily. I gripped his member gently between my hands, slowly rubbing my hands from his base to his head. A long, ragged breath escaped his mouth. Teasing, I ran my finger over his slit, and watched in delight as his back arched. Deciding that he'd had enough teasing, I took his hands in mine, rubbing the excess liquid into his skin. He smiled teasingly, knowing what I wanted.  
Long, calloused fingers ran over my entrance, moistening the ring of tense muscle. His middle finger slips inside me, pressing deep inside until… my back arched as he rubbed the bundle of nerves inside me. The pressure disappears in a sudden jerk of his hand, pulling his finger outside of me. I groan at this, wanting more of him. He smiles, and takes my feet in his hands. He lifts one to his face for a moment, tongue running over the sensitive place between two toes. Just a little too high, the webbing. He always teased me for it, before I teased him back for ever noticing. How shy my love was of his fetishes. If I were him, I'd have saved myself the effort. He had too many fetishes to easily be shy of them all. Feet, leather, dress-up, role-play, boys in skirts, the colour brown, lavender… too many to name.  
My line of thought is abruptly pulled back to the present, as Raoul attempts to curl my legs around his torso. They slip down to his waist, and I shuffle forward, somewhat awkwardly, to bring our bodies together. His face becomes serious, and I feel a sudden pressure on my entrance. Big black eyes with eyelashes like a girls ask silently for permission. I nod, and feel the pressure increase. Suddenly, he's inside me, deep inside me. So slowly, he pulls out of me halfway. It leaves a feeling of emptiness inside me, but the void is quickly filled by him. _Teasing me again, darling? Well I've had enough._ When he pulls out again I pull away just a few inches. Then our hips crash together, and pleasure blinds me momentarily.  
His hands curl around my erection. He pulls on my member, making me moan loudly. His hands play with me, and my back arcs with pleasure. It's all I can do to keep rocking my hips. We keep moving together, and I'm hot with desire. It's never enough. I always want more of him.  
As my need only increases, and I speed up, we begin to loose our rhythm. A bead of sweat rolls down his long curly fringe, and drips onto my face. We crash together once more, and I as he hits that same spot deep inside me, I loose myself in pleasure.  
I blink open my eyes, hearing Raoul scream with his release, and I feel his hot seed inside me.  
He collapses, half pulling out. We lie together on the bed, whispering sweet nothings to each other. Yet, they're not sweet nothings, because we know that sometimes, they are all we have. These soft-spoken compliments mean everything to us as we lay in the dark room with the fire dying down, and dream of a world where we don't have to pretend._

I run my hands through my tangled hair, watching Raoul's chest rise and fall gently as he sleeps. The covers have been pushed aside, presenting me with a nice view of his firm buttocks. I tr to remember the last time I was inside him… before the trip to Fief Naxen. I smile fondly at the memory. It was awkward, but it felt wonderful. That said, I prefer the bottom. Glancing down at my writings, I notice I've put myself on the bottom, as always. I am the slave, he is the master. It is definitely the preferred arrangement.  
I can't help snickering (stunning myself, I haven't snickered like that in years) at the thought of the scenario I've written about. I can just imagine Raoul trying to do that. He'd blush the entire time, and I doubt he'd be able to even pretend to hit me.  
The writings are fake of course, only those vows of love are real. And the last sentence. _And dream of a world where we don't have to pretend._ Because tomorrow I am going to the Fief with Cythera, and on that trip I will have to break my loyalty to Raoul, something neither of us want.

Deciding that my train of thought is too gloomy, I crawl into bed with my beloved, loving that I am warmer than ever, safe in his arms.

**A/N: Okay, it's a very OC story, but that's the way Gareth's mind works. I only really wrote this last night, so I haven't had a chance to proof-read or anything. If you spot any errors, feel free to correct me. Remember people. R&R, otherwise I stop writing.**

**If you have requests for the next chapter funny/sad/cows/femmslash/fetishes, I'll probably use them. Love you all, my brothers and sisters in slash!**


	14. Gareth's wife to be to be

**Disclaimer – Cythera not mine. And for once, this Gary isn't mine either. Seeing as he's straight and all in this one. But at least the maid is mine! Mwahaha…**

**A/N: Okay, down to business in this chapter. Gary is actually un-OOC, for the first time, but swears a lot. And no Raoul. Altogether now – Awww.**

"Gary, are you listening?"

I blinked out of the pleasant haze the warmth has inspired, turning to Cythera. "Uh… Of course Cythera." I spot the maid struggling with the heavy picnic basket. "Excuse me a moment, I think the maid is a little out of her depth." I dismount gracelessly, almost stumbling in my rush to escape Cythera. How can one woman talk with such consistency? Women in Elden must have learnt not breathe. "Here, let me help." The maid argues, saying she's strong enough, and that I mustn't worry myself, but I took no heed.

I carry the basket easily, forcing myself to return my attention to my wife-to-be-to-be. Er… Fiancé-to-be… "Where would you like to sit, Cythera?"

She slid off the horse with the elegance of a dryad. Hmm… Good comparison that. She looked like a dryad in the flowing olive dress, with her brown hair only tied loosely above her head. She danced gracefully through the clearing, towards the bank. "Here seems fine, Gary," she called to me, and I stared in a kind of morbid fascination as her chest rose with the effort. Mmm… She had a wonderfully husky voice.

I gestured for the maid to lay down the blanket where Cythera chose, and lowered the basket by it. When the maid had set out all the food and the satin cushions I loved, I gestured for her to retreat out of sight and sound.

Cythera and I sat down on the blanket in a semi-awkward way. I took a long draught of the wine without tasting it. Cythera followed my lead, pausing to smell it. She took a small sip. "Mm… Good wine. Rich flavour, well matured."

I blinked in astonishment. "You like wine?" When she inclined her head mysteriously, I gave a little laugh. "Well it's settled then! You're perfect. Willyoumarryme?" I had meant it to sound more nonchalant than that.

She smiled. "Why Gary, I'm flattered. I don't know what to say."

I sighed in exasperation at the teasing. "Cythera, you're the most beautiful woman on Earth, you're smart, and you're funny. You're a truly wonderful woman, and even your name commands love from all men. I'll simply die if you turn me down." Yes… If she turned me down, and I had to start this long, painful process all over again. Of course, if she turned me down, and every eligible woman in court decided I was unmarriable, that would be a very different case altogether.

She tilted her head slightly. "My name?"

I smiled as best I could. "Yes. Did you know it means Goddess of Love in ancient tongues?"

Her jaw dropped in surprise, just enough to part her lips. I leant forward, over our food, to brush my lips tentatively against hers. "Please, Cythera. Be my bride."

Her eyes were moist with emotion, which kind I couldn't tell. "Do you love me?"

I thought it would have hurt me to reply, lies always hurt me. But it didn't. "I love you Cythera. And I want you to love me back." Yes, I love you… But I'm certainly not _in love_ with you.

Cythera nodded slowly. "Then yes, Gareth of Naxen Junior, I _will_ marry you."

I felt butterflies suddenly appear in my stomach, or maybe dryads, dancing around the clearing. I reached up, burying my hand in Cythera's hair, and slowly pulling it undone. The blonde locks fell around her head and over her shoulders in silky tresses. I sighed, loving the feel of such silky locks slipping between my fingers.

Cythera slipped her arms about my waist. "Please Gary, would you kiss me?"

I nodded, letting my lips find hers. We shivered in shared delight at our first kiss. Her lips opened slightly, inviting my tongue inside with all the shyness of a virgin. I ran the tip of my tongue over the inside of her lip. My free hand glided up to caress her milky cheeks.

As our kiss deepened, our tongues tentative but passionate, my hand slipped from her hair, to the lace of her dress. She allowed me to loosen the lacing as best I could, enough to fit my hand beneath the first layer of her dress. I could sense the roughness of my hands as they made their way to her shoulders, but I continued unhindered.

How well my body seemed to recall the habits of youth!

I felt the bare skin of her shoulders, which I gripped in a firm but gentle hold, moulding Cythera to my body.

Her cheeks began to flush hot pink, a welcome encouragement. My hand struggled down, to find it's way to her breast, massaging it through the underclothes. One, maybe two layers tops, such was the convenience of informal wear.

My hand fell from her cheek, to continue the unfinished job of unlacing Cythera's dress. As the first half of the damned inconvenient clothing fell loosely away from Cythera's back, she gave a little yelp. "No!"

I recoiled as if burnt to the other side of the blanket.

We sat, panting, and staring at each other for a moment. In a subconscious stock-take, I noticed that I'd succeeded in landing one knee in what I assumed used to be pumpkin tart. Damnit, my favourite dessert ruined. I turned my attention back to my panting betrothed. "Cythera, forgive me. I don't know what came over me to be so callous." I stared at her with pleading eyes.

Cythera took a few panting breaths. "No, Gary, it's fine. I didn't mean it like that… I'm just… It's not fitting… For a duke and lady to do such a thing in the open air… before anyone even knows of our betrothal."

I nodded slowly, emotionally. "Of course, Cythera. The last thing in my mind was to rush you."

She half extended a hand, almost pleadingly. "It's not that I don't want to, Gary. Believe me I do. I just… I'm entirely unprepared… and I'd feel guilty, not even telling anyone."

I shuffled around the food, coming to kneel by her side. "I'd feel guilty also, my love. Thankyou for stopping me, at least one of us had the sense." _All I wanted was to get it over and done with! Dear gods, is that too much to ask?_

We were awkward for a moment. Suddenly, and it came as a great shock, I realised she had meant what she said. _She really wanted to!_ Ah, shame on me! I'd got her so excited, knowing we even go through with it!

I gently pulled Cythera in to my lap. "Cythera, my love, would you allow me to make it up to you?"

She looked at me, wide eyed. "What do you mean, Gary?"

As answer to her question, I slipped my hand beneath her skirts, up towards her thighs. She squirmed, but in pleasure rather than discomfort.

I ran my finger gingerly along her opening, making her gasp loudly.

"Your Grace?"

For the second time in less than five minutes, I shot over to my side of the blanket. Cythera quickly composed herself, in the way that women seems to do so well. I pressed my legs together self consciously as the maid walked towards us. "Forgive me for interrupting, your grace, my lady. I was curious as to whether or not you were ready to leave. I… It may rain soon." She gestured timidly to the skies. I glanced up, looking at the gathering rain clouds. "Of course, I hadn't even noticed."

Cythera stood up, brushing some grass off her dress. "Well don't take all day! Clear this up. I don't want to get wet."

I stood quickly and inelegantly, doing my best to hide my arousal, and rushed off to my horse

I looked at my flushing betrothed, at the nipples so visible beneath the cloth over her breasts. _Jon, _I fumed, _is going to _die_ laughing_.

**Okay, hope you liked it. Kinda random ending, and very unsatisfactory, I know. But I have to save something for the later chapters. And just a heads-up, there will be a certain drunken king who we all know and love. I think he's become our favourite character, am I right?**

**Thanks to my loyal Readers and Reviewers, and to all newbies who deign to review.**

**Luv ya all!**


	15. All the Usual Suspects

_**Disclaimer: These characters, and the realm in which they live, or the gods which rule them, do not belong to me. But seriously, I'm going to have to get drunk Jon copyrighted after this.**_

_**A/N: I would like to thank Muse and Sam for always reviewing. Thanks guys, sorry it took so long to write this one! **_

**RPOV**

George winked at me, presumably in response to some jest or another. I laughed, but it was a hollow sound. I hadn't even heard the joke.

Buri looked to me with concern. "Are you okay, Raoul? You look a little off colour." Jon gave me a knowing glance.

I combed my fingers through my hair. "I have… headache."

Jon grinned and swayed slightly. "I too! She's sitting astride me." Even I couldn't help but laugh at that.

Thayet playfully mimed at slapping Jon. Alanna leaned over and mock whispered in his ear, "You mean _be_-side you."

Jon giggled. "I'm meat when I dead."

I just stared blankly. "Um… You're meat when you're dead? Okaay…" Everyone laughed at this, and the noise went straight to my head. "Goddess!" George put a comforting hand on my shoulder as I lowered my head to my hands.

"Are you okay Raoul?"

Why was it so hot in here suddenly? I pulled at the collar of my tunic, trying to get the air down to my chest. "I…" lights were playing in front of my eyes. "Urgh! Migraine…" I rubbed my temples as if I could reach through my skull and massage the agony out of my brain.

Jon stood up clumsily. "Your chook had at bath!"

I stood up, ignoring the rounds of laughter. "Jon's right, I think I should have a bath."

Jon and I walked out into the corridor, after Jon discovered that he was in fact _not_ a giant blob, and therefore could _not_ squelch through doors. He hit the ground with a cry of "Blech!"

Soon after said incident George decided we needed supervision. "Wait up! You two shouldn't be on your own in this condition." Jon squelched into a wall in confirmation of this. I stuck with a nice, harmless, non-fatal groan. George helped Jon up, and wiped a spot of blood off his face. We managed to make it to the baths in one piece. Well, three pieces technically, seeing as there were three of us…

Jon left a trail of clothes through the hall. By the time we got to the bathroom he was completely naked, and was quite a gorgeous site. He had a beautifully built chest, with large pink nipples, and a light trail of hair down his navel.

George stripped quickly as well. My lack of Gary (and certain parts of Gary's body) must have been getting to me. George had an amazingly toned body; damnit, he had muscles in places where most people didn't have places. His chest was covered in a light dusting of bronze hair.

I felt my member stiffen in response to the sight.

George smiled at me, reaching over to me in a familiar gesture to take my hip in his calloused hand. I stumbled towards him. "George… I…" it took most of my self-control not to cry.

Soft lips caressed mine. I flinched away fast enough to carry myself, fully clothed, into the bath.

Jon squealed with laughter. I spluttered. George did his best to stifle his fits of laughter as he slid into the bath. "Take off your clothes, Raoul, and come sit beside me."

I shook his head. My reaction seemed to amuse George terribly; he ducked his hair under the water and shook it dry with a grin. "Don't be so melodramatic Raoul. Take of your clothes and sit beside me," he ordered.

When I say 'ordered' I mean I literal had no say in the matter, there was no way I could resist a muscular, dripping wet, hunk like George. I stripped off my clothes and sat beside them. Jon had joined us on George's other side, looking slightly sobered… but still utterly enchanted by the shine of the light on George's chest.

I was torn between my love of Gary, my complete devotion to him, and the insatiable need the sight of George inspired in me. I could remember making love to George, with his arms like iron holding me against his powerful chest. It was driving me insane. "George…"

He laughed aloud. "You worry too much, Raoul." Slowly, _torturously_ slowly, he leaned over and kissed me. "Live a little," he whispered seductively. Jon laughed, reaching over George to stroke my chest.

Even as I kissed George, even as I arched into Jon's touch; I was arguing with George. "I shouldn't…." My voice faded into a moan as George licked along my jaw. "S-shouldn't be… doing this." Jon shuffled around until he was behind me, sandwiching me between him and George.

George kissed me violently, "Be quite, you fool." I didn't have a chance to reply before he was kissing me again.

Jon was slowly kissing his way down my body and walking his hands towards my groin. I couldn't help but thrust into his hold. My errection brushed against George's enormous member and we both groaned. I was thrashing between these two gorgeous men, each with their hard ons pressed against me. My heart was pounding in my ears. "J-Jon," I stammered.

"Mmm?" he mumbled past my tailbone.

"Fuck me."

George laughed, moving in to nibble on my earlobe. "Not so reluctant now, are we?" I wanted to argue with him, but he silenced me with a finger pressed against my bottom lip. "If you promise to be quiet we can play a game," his whisper promised a million untold pleasures.

I nodded and he took his hand away from my mouth. "What kind of gam-ah!" I cried out as Jon slid his finger inside me without warning. A series of hot kisses muffled my following moans as another of Jon's fingers was pushed inside me, followed by another, and another. By the time he had all four fingers inside me I was writhing with pleasure.

If his next comment was anything to go by, George certainly didn't like my attention being away from him. "Would you like to see how long I could hold my breath underwater?" One deliciously rough hand trailed suggestively over my chest to slap against the water just millimetres above the top of my errection. All I could do was nod and moan.

George ducked beneath the water, teasing me with his wet kisses. With George's mouth otherwise occupied, I was free to cry out as Jon replaced his fingers with his thick, hard member. "Gods!" My cry quickly degraded into a long moan when George took my entire member in his mouth.

Jon taking me from behind, George taking me from the front; it was safe to say I was in heaven.

My hips were caught up in the rhythm of Jon's hips and George's tongue. Everything became blurred; pleasure is pleasure is pleasure and all that… my eyes snapped shut, heavy as lead weights. Moments later, an explosion of pleasure rocked my body, and I came into George's mouth.

***

Hours later, I lay sprawled out on the bed in The King's Private Chamber, snuggled between two sweaty lovers. No one would disrupt us here unless His Majesty failed to show up for the entire day. Jon slowly traced imaginary circles around my nipples with one thumb.

George was already asleep and snoring lightly with my head on his chest and his steady breathing slowly rocking me to sleep.

In the last moments before I slipped into warm unconsciousness I whispered aloud, "Sorry, G'ry."

_**A/N: I know! I'm a terrible, terrible person for not updating for so long. I have been an awful author and I am wracked with guilt because of it. To make up for it I am writing another chapter, albeit a short one, starting NOW!**_

_**Remember that I do take requests, and I would love any ideas on how a certain festive event should happen.**_

_**I love you all. Sorry again.**_


	16. A Lesson in Trust

_**Disclaimer: No… not mine, unfortunately… :( waaaaaaaaaa**_

_**A/N: I just wanted to get this done before we dived into the next long chapter. Thankyou to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, and all preceeding.**_

"Gary!" I pulled him into the room, and kissed him violently.

He smiled that irresistible smile, "Did ya miss me?"

I just kissed him again, passionately proclaiming my ownership of him, and his of me. "You have no idea," I assured him before pulling him further into the room and ravaging his delightful body

***

The movement of Gary's smooth chest was barely visible as he slept, yet I still managed to find myself transfixed by it. "Gary?" his long eyelashes barely parted, revealing only a fraction of the hazel beneath.

"Mm?" Judging by his tone, my endless questioning was starting to irritate him.

I stared at the tiny smile playing on his lips, and the sweat shining on his skin, and I just couldn't say it. "Nothing."

Gary sighed, and sat up slowly. "Raoul, tell me the truth. What's wrong?"

I couldn't hep but look away. "Uh… I don't… nothing," lying to Gary felt almost as bad as cheating on him.

"Mithros, Raoul! Tell me the truth!" It was the first time he'd ever sounded truly angry with me. I flinched away. After a moment of shocked pause Gary crawled over to my side of the bed, and pressed me gently against his chest. "What's wrong, Raoul?" I just shook my head. "Please Raoul; you know you can tell me anything."

Tears ran down my face as I turned to face him. "I… Gary, I…" I buried my face in his neck. "Gary, I slept with George... and Jon," I blubbed.

Gary actually laughed. "Oh, Raoul, love, don't cry! I'm sorry, beautiful." He sucked languidly on my neck. "I'm sorry, I asked George to look after you while I was gone." I froze with shock, I couldn't even speak. "I should have known he'd take it the wrong way, typical George."

My jaw hung slack as I stared blankly at Gary. "You… Worry… Me?" It was hardly the height of eloquence, but it got the message across.

Gary laughed in my face. "Of course I do, you fool. I love you."

I blushed and kissed him. "Love you too, Gary," _with all my heart,_ I added in my mind.

My laughing idol of a God kissed me once more, before shoving me against the bed. "Now go to sleep!"

_**A/N: A new chapter ASAP, as I promised. It was a rush job but I hope you liked it. Please review, suggestions appreciated!**_

_**Marius**_


	17. An Unexpected Party

**Disclaimer- unfortunately, most of this genius isn't mine. That whole 'stain to all nymphs' business belongs to the wonderful William Shakespeare, who inspired this piece.  
A thousand thanks to all my wonderful reviews, especially Muse and Sam.  
Also, the title of this chapter belongs to J.R.R Tolkein, and I know it doesn't quite fit the storyline, seeing as we've known this was coming for a long time.**

**3POV**

Gary of Naxen Junior inspected himself in the mirror, wiping his forehead with the King's silk handkerchief. His hazel eyes glistened with emotion as his best man walked into the room. "Raoul, you look…" he shook his head slowly. "Indescribable."

Raoul of Goldenlake smiled and kissed his lover on the cheek. As he did so, he slipped a small charm into the groom's pocket for good luck. "You look wonderful as well, Gary. How can I describe your beauty tonight?" Though his emotions were pure chaos, he appeared calm, and even blasé, on the surface. "Stain to all nymphs, more lovely than a man. Field's chief flower, sweet above compare," he heaped compliments upon his bashful lover.

King Jonathan coughed, "Hello, I'm still here. Though we really shouldn't be, because we're expected at the chapel." At these words, everyone in the room began to rush around hysterically. George dragged Jonathan from the room, gesturing for Gary and Raoul to follow as soon as possible.

The two men stared at each other awkwardly, each trying to think of something to say. A sudden wave of passion overwhelmed Raoul, and he rushed to his love, kissing his lips and his face. They said nothing, but they both knew it was time to leave. "This doesn't change anything," Gary promised, to himself as much as his beloved Captain. Raoul mouthed a silent prayer to the goddess, and lead Gary from the room.

Jon and George sat in the front pews beside their wives, and as the couple passed, they all felt prayers spring to their lips.

Gary chewed on the inside of his lip as he waited for his betrothed to arrive. After a few excruciating minutes, a wedding march sounded, signalling the bride's arrival. Cythera was stunning, with her light brown hair tied in loose bun high on her head, and her lips painted. She made the perfect blushing bride with scarlet cheeks and a shy smile on her lips. Gary of Naxen craned his head around, unable to resist the urge to stare at her. She walked with the grace of the Goddess, her willowy hips swaying with her steps.

Art that moment, every man in the room felt jealous of Gary. Every man except The Captain of The Kings Own, who stared at Cythera with teary-filled eyes, and wished with all his heart he could take her place.

**RPOV**

The ceremony seemed to stretch on forever. Every second was torture. Gary was unbelievably beautiful. Jonathan made a beautiful speech as he gave his blessing for the marriage.

When the final words were said, tears began to spill over my eyes. Everyone stood up and began to leave for the ballroom. I rushed through the doors, and fled to the stables where no one could see me cry.

Gary loved me, that I knew. But it wasn't enough. Later tonight he would sleep with Cythera, and maybe he would get her with child. He might have a son, or a daughter, and start a family. When Midwinter came around he would celebrate with her, he would dance with her, she would sit beside him at the feasts. Eventually the would move away from the palace to live at Fief Naxen to raise their children, and I would go to live at Goldenlake to escape all the memories.

Then what would Gary and I have? We might see each other once or twice a year. When we came together in some fleeting moment of privacy he would swear his love for me was undying, and I would say the same.

Then he would return to Cythera, and she would kiss him in front of all our friends, and tell him she loved him. Eventually their children would grow up, and their sons would be knights. Gary and Cythera would be together for their children's weddings, and the births of their Grandchildren.

What then? Would see each other at all? Would I even bother to come to the palace when I knew Gary would be there? Would I even send him letters with my empty promises of love? Would I even visit him when Cythera died? By then I wouldn't be able to hope. When Gary eventually died, I would shed a few tears, but I wouldn't bother going to the funeral and reliving all those painful memories.

My life with Gary was as good as over, and we'd been together for less than a year.

"Raoul?" I looked up in surprise, seeing Buri kneeling beside me. "Are you okay?"

I nodded. "J-Just… allergies."

She curled her arms around me. "It's okay. You're not alone anymore." She couldn't have even guessed what I was crying about. "It's okay, Raoul." Still crying helplessly, I wound my arms around her waist, and rested my head against her breast. "I'm here now, it's all going to be okay."

And for the first time since that night in Fief Naxen, it seemed as though it really was.

**A/N: Aaawww, isn't that... something or other.... sweet, I suppose. This might be the last chapter. I'm debating the idea of an epilouge, or ending it here. I could continue it, but I'm not sure. What do you all think?**


	18. Epilogue: Gary, don't cry

**Epilogue: Gary, don't cry**

**Disclaimer: Okay, I'm sorry to have to say this, but to hell with Tam Pierce. This story is so far from cannon that I'm not even sure it qualifies as Fanfiction, the names just happen to be the same. Oh well, if anyone knows what actually happened with Gary/Cythera or Raoul/Buri I'd love to know, but it's simply been so long since I read the books!**

**A/N: Okay, this is the last chapter (hence the 'epilogue' thing)(and also, there might be a spin-off series) so I'd like to take this last chance to thank Buggie, Muse, and Dark Angel; you're my angels, muses and…. Bugs, I suppose.**

"Uncle Rail!" A tiny, blond haired balled of excitement jumped screaming into my open arms.

"Cathy!" I laughed, pretending to stagger under her weight. "Look how you've grown! I shant be able to lift you any more if you keep growing like this!" Catherine laughed and wrapped her little arms around my neck.

Gary stood in the doorway, laughing at our antics. His hair was beginning to go grey at the temples, and he had to walk with a stick since he'd injured his leg on a hunting trip. But his hazel eyes still shone with warmth and his smile could have put the sun in shadow. With the same tender care I gave my own daughters, I let Cathy down and walked over to my lover. "Gary," I whispered, savouring the taste of his name on my lips.

The smile he gave me was tired, and a little sad. "Raoul."

"How are they?" I asked gently, fearing I knew the answer.

His lip quivered a little as he replied. "The child… died. Cythera's still bed-ridden."

How much I wished that he was in my arms at that very moment. How much I wished I could take away the pain that he must have felt. How much I wished that anything I could do would help him. "Will she be okay?"

At this he just shrugged and turned away. "I don't know. She should get better… if she wants to." He sighed. "Well, what matter? I'm happy you're here."

I was about to reply when I felt a gentle tugging at my hand. "Uncle Ray-ool?" I looked down into Cathy's sunny face. "Did Rosie come wif you?"

I shook my head. "Sorry Cathy, Rosie stayed home to look after her mother." Cathy's face fell, but she soon perked up and danced away to do some childish thing or another.

I glanced briefly around the courtyard to make sure all the tedious household tasks – stabling the horses, unloading the luggage, etc – were being done, then took Gary's hand in mine and led him away. "I'm so sorry about the child," I whispered, afraid to break the heavy silence of mourning in the house.

He shrugged. "It happens. I'm just glad you're here." Glancing at me with a tentative longing he whispered, "I think…" a sob filled his throat and he flinched away from me, as if ashamed. Immediately, I pulled him into my arms, smoothing down his hair as he cried. Through the heart-wrenching sobs that wracked his frame, Gary continued. "I think I'm in need of comforting arms again."

I wanted to kiss him then and there, but I forced myself to think logically. We needed a room, a private space, and I dragged Gary with me into my usual room. Somehow, my bags had beat us there, not that I noticed at the time. Gary's tears slowly dried, though he was still sobbing dryly.

_I know there is no comfort for him now – with a dead child and a dying wife – other than my arms. There is no vanity or pride in this knowledge, more of a kind of loving desperation. Gary _has_ to get better._

Our clothes were gone, not ripped but gently laid aside, and I slipped my arms around his naked waist. I lay him gently down on the bed, and spread his limbs wide. He watched me expressionlessly as I rose to my knees over his body, then sat down on the tops of his thighs. Gary was still fit, lean and muscular. He was still gorgeous. My hands played with his manhood, and my own, and then I leaned down to kiss one nipple, and he moaned.

_I still love him after all these years with Buri. More importantly, he still loves me after all these years with Cythera. That is what matters, that Gary is mine, and I am his._

Our sweaty limbs tangled in the delicate sheets as we made love. Somehow we'd managed to stay together as I moved from my seat on Gary's lap, taking his pleasure at his will, to spoon up behind him, and fuck him mercilessly. For one bittersweet moment we were children again; insatiable, young, hot-blooded males each fighting for domination of the other's body.

_Cythera died that night, and Gary's tears had been enough to break my heart ten times over. To loose a child and a wife of some decades in one fell swoop was unimaginable to me._

We lay in bed, exhausted from our lovemaking, and Gary cried in my arms. His pain over her death was a blow to me, but then, his pain was always a blow to me.

_We are together, we are certain of our bloodline, we are wealthy, and we are in love; what more can we ask for than that?_

**A/N: Okay, this is a **_**kiiinda**_** random place to end it, but I hope it wraps up some of the loose ends. In case you were wondering, Jon and George also had a wonderful, prosperous relationship with each other outside of their marriage (but it's not an affair, because it's an **_**open**_** marriage) and they all live happily ever after.**

**Oh, and, what the heck, Thayet and Alanna had a brief but passionate relationship as well, and they lived happily ever after, too.**

**Please review this chapter! Please-please-please! If you do I might write a spin-off series, or another slashy fanfic of another story, if you have any suggestions.**

**And final thanks to **_**everyone**_** who reviewed but has not been mentioned until now.**

**That is:** **Mangacreation, personlikething, blip-chan, theycallmesquire, childofgallifrey, tigerpower494, Ali, teresadelay, shayrazor, taniaslc, activeingredient, masochistmuch and painelust; I love you all! Mila Wellman, thankyou for the spelling advice. That option seriously never occurred to me.**

**Marius.**


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